Bliss

17 - Sky

I remember very clearly the conversation around the table last night. I take a deep breath as Miles starts packaging the cans first. I think he noticed I feel a little out of place, a little ruffled, and he smiles at me whenever I look at him, like he's afraid I'll bite his head off if he doesn't. Honestly, I think that might truly happen. My nerves are under so much stress right now.

As the conveyor belt speeds up and the assembly line falls into a smooth, rhythmic pattern, I suck it up. I push all thoughts of the soldiers away, look up, clear my throat, and say, "Hi."

Miles looks up from a can of steak. We're both wearing the safety goggles, but somehow, I suddenly realize he makes them look good. His blonde hair still falls perfectly over his face. His freckles barely show under the plastic of the goggles. An average, handsome face. He smiles. "Hello, Sky Binasco."

My first reaction is: his voice is deeper than the last time I heard it.

My second reaction is: I love the way he says my name. I smile back, suddenly giddy. "How are you?"

"Well," he says.

"That's . . . good. It would be bad if you were anything otherwise," I say, but then I realize how awkward that sounds and quickly avert my eyes down to the cans. I'm an idiot. I can't talk.

Relax, Sky. It's just the nerves.

But Miles just laughs, and suddenly those nerves melt away a little. I look up at him again, seeing that handsome face again, and I try to imagine what it would be like to wake up to him every morning. I certainly don't have many other options.

"Have you . . . um . . ." I begin, unsure as to how I can bring the topic up. "Have you gotten your papers yet? The marriage ones?"
Miles's eyes widen. "Yeah, why?"

"Oh, I--" My face turns hot. "--I wanted to make sure this conversation is legal."

"Don't worry," Miles says. "I've had them for a while."

Oh, I think. He must've found a girl by now. I think I must've looked disappointed--which, by the way, is incredibly stupid of me--because he notices. After a long five minutes of just the idle buzzing of the conveyor, I stop expecting the conversation to pick up again. I sigh and look down so that I can focus on my work. Of course, why hadn't I thought of it before? Miles is a pretty attractive guy--he must be taken by now.

We work until the buzzer signals lunch, and even then, when everyone gets up in unison, I still avoid Miles's eyes.

Lunch goes pretty smoothly. I sit with Elper, more than glad to have her back.

"We're still . . . you know, talking after work?" she asks. I smile and nod.

"Yeah, I really need your advice about something," I say, taking a small forkful from the wilted lettuce. It's not even its season. Why are they canning it so soon? The crowded cafeteria seems a little hotter today. Well, in fact, the temperatures are spiking, but everyone--sweaty or not--is pretending they don't feel it.

Mid-meal, I start to feel a little thirsty, so I get up, pushing my chair back. I push through the crowd, towards the direction of the opposite end of the room where the water fountain is. I almost make it, but just when I'm two steps away from quenching this awful thirst, someone grabs my arm.

I look over my shoulder, startled. For some reason, Harry pops into my head. Him and his hostility. But once I focus and take a deep breath, I relax. It's only Miles.

I try not to let a smile creep up on my face, even as his fingers release my arm.

"Sky, I'm going to get straight to the point," he begins. I frown, and my stomach does a flip. "I stare at you everyday, waiting for you to speak up. Today, you spoke up. It's been an entire year."
My mouth drops open. "Oh, Miles, I--"